


The Game of Wilson: Six Cards in a Five Card Game

by paradisecity



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-02
Updated: 2006-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradisecity/pseuds/paradisecity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you're going to play a game like moving in together, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes, and the quitting time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game of Wilson: Six Cards in a Five Card Game

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Game of Wilson](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265) by [Topaz_Eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes). 



> This is a remix of Topaz_Eyes' fic, linked above.

**"** Door's open! Really, you live here, you have a key, you don't need to knock."  
  
Wilson shut the door behind him, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it up. "I was just trying to respect your privacy."  
  
"What privacy? House said. "If Sasha the sure thing were coming over, I'd have told you, unless you'd prefer me to put a sock on the doorknob. You can start respecting my taste buds instead—no more of those bell pepper monstrosities or I'm throwing you out, too."  
  
Wilson rolled his eyes. "Should've married you instead of Julie," he muttered, heading for the kitchen.  
  
There was a pause and then, "Touchy. What's the matter? Rough day at the office, honey?"  
  
"Matter of fact, it was," was his muffled reply, accompanied by the clinking of bottles.  
  
"Well, put your apron on, bring me a beer, and tell me all about it while I ignore you and watch the truck jam instead."

\--------

"Whatever happened to Kevin and Lucy?" Wilson asked, propping his feet up on the desk and shifting to avoid the glare from the office window. "I knew that spin-off was a bad idea. And speaking of, what happened to--"  
  
"We're not exactly sexually compatible," House said.  
  
"--the old Lucky? This new one," Wilson said, then stopped to make the confused fish face that was House's favorite because was it was so ridiculously unattractive. "What?"  
  
"The old Lucky looked like a boyband runaway and didn't last long. The one you're talking about--"  
  
"Sexually compatible?"  
  
"Not unless you've been keeping a secret from me all these years."  
  
"Why were you…?" Wilson asked, gesturing vaguely.  
  
"Well, it's an integral part of wedded bliss, or so I've been told."  
  
"Oh." Fish face.  
  
"The Lucky you're talking about lost a role in _Star Wars_ but won a role in _Dirty Dancing_. I'm guessing his agent didn't win a bonus."  
  
It took Wilson a moment to respond, then, "Too bad. I liked him."  
  
"So did I."

\--------

"Really," House said, stealing potato chips off Wilson's tray despite the fact that he had a bag all his own, "It's all 'My mother was a gin-soaked floozy' and 'My father died before I could say goodbye' and 'I have sex with drugged out coworkers.' Crybaby."  
  
"House," Wilson admonished.  
  
"He can't even break into people's homes. What am I supposed to do the next time I need a B&E in an upscale neighborhood? Eventually someone's going to get suspicious and call the cops on Foreman. Then it'll be all 'The Man is holding me down' and 'Black power' and 'Someone call the ACLU' and 'I have a dream.'"  
  
"It could be a bachelor marriage."  
  
House stole his pickle and didn't miss a beat. "Those aren't even legal in Massachusetts anymore. Though I suppose that's a relief; you probably wouldn't want a fourth divorce on your conscience."  
  
"Who says we'd get divorced?"  
  
"Of course we wouldn't get divorced. We wouldn't get _married_."  
  
Wilson went quiet, then started pulling the crust off his bread. "What about Cameron?"  
  
"You can't marry Cameron."  
  
Wilson sighed. "I meant, what about her litany of complaints? Surely she's a crybaby, too?"  
  
House rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows _that_."

\--------

"It's not vasculitis," Wilson said as the younger doctors filed out the door. "It's _never_ vasculitis. I don't work here and even I know that."  
  
"Yes, well, thanks to the ALL you ruled out, I didn't have anything else to go on. And you know how doctors are anyway," House said distastefully, "always wanting _help_ people."  
  
"Mm," Wilson agreed. "Damned Hippocractic oath."  
  
"So," House said, "we could go common law. You could just move in."  
  
Wilson took a long moment to turn the page of the journal he wasn't reading. "I thought I had--"  
  
"Hey," Chase said, walking in and scanning the room, "have you seen--"  
  
"--what with my apron and our beer and your sock on the knob."  
  
Chase paused. "Never mind," he said, and promptly walked back out.  
  
"Kids," House said dismissively. "I guess we'll have to start spelling around them."  
  
Wilson gave it another moment, then studied House over the top of his page. "Are you serious about this?"  
  
"Are we serious about any of it?"  
  
Wilson didn't have an answer, so he said instead, "Twenty bucks it's not vasculitis."  
  
"Take off the apron and be a man. Fifty."

\--------

"You make a better door than a window, Wilson. Move. I can't see the TV."  
  
Wilson stood still and smiled at House long enough to annoy him, then stepped away and headed for the kitchen. "Well, hello, darling. Good to see you, too. How were things at the office?"  
  
"Fine, except for this douchebag in the office next to me. He's self-righteous and _annoying_ ," House said, raising his voice to be heard over the running water, "and he has horrible taste in ties."  
  
"Hey," Wilson protested, shutting off the water and rooting around in the fridge, "my ties are not ugly. And does anyone even say 'douchebag' anymore?"  
  
House shrugged. "All the cool kids.  
  
"Well, in that case."  
  
"Hey, did you know Rafe on _Port Charles_ used to be Patrick on _One Life to Live_ , where he played the brother of his own character? And his girlfriend on _One Life to Live_ was his actual girlfriend, who also played his sister on -- wait," he said suspiciously, "I recognize that smell. What are you doing?"  
  
"I knew getting SOAPnet was a bad idea."  
  
"I said, what are you doing?"  
  
"Making stuffed peppers," Wilson said defensively.  
  
"Stuffed with what? Vomit?"  
  
Wilson leaned into the doorway, brandishing his butcher's knife. "That wasn't funny the first you said it. It's still not." Wilson resumed his chopping. House made a face.  
  
"Don't think I didn't see that."  
  
"You didn't."  
  
"But I know you did it anyway."  
  
"There. I just did it again."  
  
"Congratulations. You've mastered the art of rep--"  
  
"Shut up, Lucy's on. And she's wearing this _thing_."  
  
"You need silence in order to _see_?"  
  
"I need silence in order to concentrate on her _thing_. And all her other things." Wilson's sigh spoke volumes of exasperation. "And what am I supposed to eat for dinner, now?"  
  
"If you don't like my peppers, make your own damn dinner."  
  
"But you--"  
  
The tip of Wilson's knife was just visible through the doorway. "--do not subscribe to traditional gender roles. You're a doctor; you've mastered biology and chemistry. If that doesn't qualify you to make your own dinner, it at least qualifies you to order in."  
  
"Can you stop your bra burning long enough to bring me a beer?"  
  
"When I'm through."  
  
"Fine."  
  
When the peppers baking and the kitchen was cleaned, Wilson joined House, beer in tow. "Wow," he said as he sat down, craning his neck for the full effect, "that really is a thing."  
  
"And you said SOAPnet was a bad idea."  
  
"I stand corrected."  
  
House sipped from his beer and smirked. "This is the part where you tell me this is the best non-marriage you've ever had."  
  
Wilson said, "No, actually, this is the part where I tell you to shut up," because he couldn't give House the satisfaction of admitting this was better than most of his actual marriages had been.


End file.
